


Tomorrow's Some Kind Of Strangerland

by AetherAria



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: (i still dn't know how to tag things rip), (some characters tagged will not appear until later chapters), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Ceasefire, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Lizard Kissin' Tuesday (Penumbra Podcast), Multi, Pre-Relationship, Second Citadel (Penumbra Podcast), asking for help, canonical character illness, uhhhhh canon-typical fantasy monster-hatred? that's gonna be a thing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25562512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AetherAria/pseuds/AetherAria
Summary: When Mira took the throne, she did what no human ruler in living memory has done - she reached out, and brokered peace with the monsters. It is a shaky, uncertain sort of peace, but she and the current monster Senate have managed to maintain it for a handful of years now with only minor incident.Lord Arum has not interacted with the human infection in the Northern Wilds since the ceasefire, but when his Keep becomes ill past his own ability to cure, the Senate has a peculiar idea for how to help the isolated Lord while testing the goodwill of their tentative allies at the same time.
Relationships: Lord Arum & Queen Mira (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum & The Keep (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien (Penumbra Podcast), Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla (Penumbra Podcast)
Comments: 40
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Starting with a short chapter! Yes, I am a nightmare and I cannot stop generating new multichapters before my CURRENT multichapters are complete. I am both sorry and not sorry at the same time. Special thanks to the Snerver for helping to inspire and also brainstorm this au a while back!! Hopefully y'all enjoy it at least a little. Also, sorry there's no genuine bouquet content in this, but like, it's fine. We'll get there. We just gotta get thru some Grumpy Arum Content first, and who doesn't like that?
> 
> Title from the song The Neighbors by St. Vincent.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arum asks for help, part the first.

The blight upon the Keep has been growing slowly, but it has been _growing_ , nonetheless. It does not matter what treatments and regiments and experiments Arum attempts to combat it. In fact, the harder Arum works, the faster the sickness seems to spread.

He passes out for nearly eleven hours after a furious series of experiments on the Keep's blighted tissue runs him ragged for a length of time that he entirely fails to track. Three sleepless days, he thinks. Perhaps four days. Perhaps _more_ , but then he stops for half a moment and the next thing he knows he is waking, curled over his workbench as he feels the Keep nudging at him, and he has lost nearly half a day.

He is _furious_ , needless to say. Furious with the Keep for allowing him to rest, with himself for succumbing to the needs of his traitor body, with the Keep for being ill in the first place, with himself for _failing_ to protect his home-

But when he finishes raging and takes stock of where he left off in his experiments, when he takes stock of his Keep and what he can _feel_ from it, he realizes that the sense of stiffness, the slow-growing petrification- it has not _ceased_ , but it seems as if it has barely increased at all, while Arum slept.

This news is concerning and relieving in equal measure.

Arum is relieved, for the obvious reasons. Arum is _concerned_ , because if a lack of involvement on his own part has caused the illness to spread substantially less quickly, the obvious implication is that his attempts to combat this blight are, in fact, _worsening_ it instead.

He is harming his Keep in the attempt to heal it.

He scoffs at himself as the Keep tries to comfort, because of _course_. Arum knows his home from the highest sprigs in the canopy to the dutiful worms beneath his feet, but he is not a _healer_.

It burns in the pit of his stomach to admit it, even in his own head, but-

Arum cannot save his Keep on his own. Without help, the both of them will die.

* * *

It rankles, of course, to come crawling to the Senate to ask for _help_ , but Lord Arum has very little choice. He does not know all of their faces now- he has not been anywhere _near_ the Senate since a long, long time before the conflict with the humans came to its current ceasefire, and it seems that there has been some turnover in the ranks since that time. Arum assumes that the two events are related.

He knows, _instantly_ , that he is going to dislike the Senate's plan. When he has finished speaking, the enormous snail grins (or Arum _thinks_ he does), and the haughty gold-eyed grimalkin flicks her whiskers and shoots a look towards the twin dryads at the end of the dais, and Arum does not at _all_ trust the pointed expressions that pass between them, nor the light hissing murmurs from the _rest_ of those he has come here to beg.

"You require… a healer, then?" the grimalkin asks in a guttural sort of voice, her head tilting primly.

"One who understands flora, _cares_ for flora," Arum mutters, ducking his own head. "This blight is…" he grits his teeth, " _beyond_ my capabilities. I have done everything in my own power and still it grows."

"And you seek our help," the dryads say in tandem, "rather than appealing to your allies-"

"Because the poor boy does not _have_ any," the snail croons. "Oh, alas for the consequences of such a determined attempt at solitude."

Arum grits his teeth, lowers his head further, and says nothing for a long moment.

"Either you will assist me, or you will not," he says quietly, "but I believe that you are fully aware of the consequences of allowing the entirety of the Swamp of Titan's Blooms to die. The reputation of my swamp contributes to the safety of the monsters who live in the lands surrounding, and the sheer abundance of life within my care-"

"Stop," the grimalkin says, her ears flicking, and Arum snaps his jaw shut. "There is no need to entreat us further."

"Might we," the snail hedges, his eyestalks looking up and away innocently, "consult with the Universe, before we render judgment?"

"There is no need," the grimalkin repeats, her gold eyes still fixed on Arum when he hazards a glance upwards. "And no judgment to render. My own desires will lead me properly to the will of the Universe." She pauses, glancing towards the dryads again, and then she straightens slightly, her shoulders rolling. "Lord Arum, I do not think that we can assist you."

Arum's heart and stomach plummet, but something in her tone makes him hold his tongue despite his despair.

" _We_ cannot," she continues. "But I believe that this may present an opportunity. There is a potential resource that we could take advantage of, while testing the resolve of certain … new _allies_ , let us call them. If they wish to prove their intent, they will help you, and in so doing, help _us_. And," she continues, the gold in her eyes flashing in the low light, "in so doing, I believe we will all entertain the Universe _greatly_."

Arum swallows, and raises his head, and he knows he will not like the answer when he asks her _who_ , precisely, it is that she means to petition for assistance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arum arrives at the Citadel. He finds himself not particularly welcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beep beep! everyone is being very very very mean to each other this chapter. Except Angelo. Thank you Angelo.

The Senate sending him to _personally_ ask the humans for help is a punishment for _something_ , Arum is certain of that. At the very least, he knows that the _snail_ hates him.

It is not _fair_ , that Arum needs to traverse the wilds to go beg for help a _second_ time to even less sympathetic an audience, but then, the Universe itself is not fair. The Universe is unfair, and it seemingly _delights_ in Arum's humiliation.

Well.

Regardless of how it burns, Arum can stomach humiliation, if it means the survival of his Keep. The survival of his Keep is the _only_ thing that matters. The humans never even came close to destroying his home during their precious little attempts at warmaking, and they will certainly not be the cause of its destruction _now_.

Though not for lack of trying.

Arum cannot even portal back to his Keep to rest, along the journey. Not with any regularity, anyway. The added distance and the frequency of summoning would drain its energy, and when it is already struggling merely to push back its illness, Arum could not possibly justify risking it for the sake of a softer place to rest his head. The unintended consequence of this, however, becomes more and more apparent the closer he comes to their Citadel.

The war is at a standstill. One would not be _aware_ of that, if they guessed merely by the attitudes of the human knights who patrol their roads. If it was merely aggressive looks and posturing, Arum could soundly ignore them and move _on_ , but every single one seems determined to interrogate him, to interrogate his motives and his destination and his reasons for traveling alone-

Not a one of them will leave him be, not until he shows them the letter the Senate sent him with, closed with their bold seal and addressed to the human Queen. They never seem any _happier_ about the situation when he relents and shows his trinket, but at least they tend to leave him alone, after that.

He feels half-wilted by the time he finally sees the Citadel, piercing up out of the jungle in the distance. He can barely sleep simply for the sake of his own safety, even when he curls into the branches of the trees above he cannot be certain he will not be seen by another less-than-amicable monster. He can still feel the slow creep of stiffness inside of him, as well, a sympathetic echo of what ails his home, and despite the Keep encouraging this plan, Arum still feels a stab of guilt for _leaving_ at such a time. It seems _wrong_ , even if this distance is only for the purpose of seeking help.

Arum is not stopped at the gates of the Citadel, but the guards posted there certainly do not look _happy_ to let him pass, either. Arum seethes, and stiffens his spine, and breezes past with his snout in the air.

Stupid, stubborn, self-important creatures. Every single one of them. How _any_ Queen of such unpleasant little things could have managed to convince the Senate to peace is rather beyond him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


"Ever since the truce these beasts act as if they may slither through our streets like the war never occurred," Sir Damien murmurs, his eyes darting sharply between the handful of monsters he can see dotted through the marketplace. His attention is particularly bright upon the figure of one monster, unfamiliar and tall and out of place in his brightly colored clothing, his curved horns singling him out even further above the heads of the citizenry. "As if they have any _right_ to our Citadel-"

"Oh, come now," Angelo chides beside him, though his tone is still jovial. "That seems an unkind thought, Sir Damien."

"Unkind," Damien sighs, shaking his head, half his attention still on the tall monster as his meandering path brings him closer towards the pair of them. "Sir Angelo, less than a month ago a beast took a life within these very walls-"

"Was that not-" Angelo pauses, tilts his head, "some smuggled animal? Magical, yes, but not-"

"A _monster_ is a monster, Sir Angelo. Merely because its motives could not be _traced_ to any strategy does not mean-"

"- a _simple_ question," says a guttural, rumbling voice, and Damien's attention flits back towards the monster, and the man he has apparently accosted into speaking with him.

Damien's feet move before he even thinks to do so, striding towards the pair with Angelo at his heel, just in time to see the man stick his hand into the sack in his arms, tossing a handful of grain directly into the monster's face before the man turns and marches away. Damien's own feet do not falter, and he places himself in between the creature and the man he will likely now attempt to exact some sort of vengeance upon.

"You," he calls, stern and frowning. "Leave that poor man alone, _beast_."

The monster bares his teeth as he steps back, brushing a clawed hand down the front of his vivid purple cape and dusting the grain and dust away. "Yes," he snaps. "Obviously, obviously _I_ was the one causing an _issue_ in our interaction, of _course_ there would be some human social rule to preclude a monster asking one single question-" He turns, his teeth still visible and sharp, and his eyes are precisely as vivid as his cape as he fixes them on Damien. "Ah. A _knight_. So _that_ is why you felt the need to interject, rather than simply cringing away from me as the rest of your species seems intent to do."

"With good cause," Damien mutters. "What business have you here?"

The lizard's eyes flash, all four of his hands clenching into fists, and a strange hissing noise escapes between his teeth before he answers. "Are monsters _allowed_ within the walls of your shabby little city or are they _not_?"

Damien snaps his jaw shut, his cheeks going hot with indignation, but Angelo answers before he can regain his tongue.

"We are at peace, my good beast. You are welcome to come and go as you please, provided that you cause no trouble, and harm no citizenry of the Second Citadel."

Something like incredulity, perhaps amusement, crosses the monster's face at this answer, and then his lip pulls up in something like a sneer. "Then I do not see why I should answer. My business is my own, and it is not as if you lot will _assist_. As I am learning more and more quickly."

"Our duty is to help!" Angelo chimes brightly, and the monster blinks in disbelief as Damien scowls.

"To help the citizens of our _Citadel_ , Sir Angelo," Damien corrects quickly.

"That sounds more apt," the monster growls. "Now _move_. You are in my way and I have little time to waste."

Damien's mouth hangs open, and the fury burns within him even as Angelo amicably takes a step back, gesturing for the monster to pass.

"How- how _dare_ you speak to a knight of the Crown in such a way! Some foreign beast, some _interloper_ -"

"Considering I was nearly assaulted _three distinct times_ by your ilk on the journey here," the monster snarls, "you will forgive me my lapse in _decorum_. My would-be attackers were dressed quite as _you_ are, knight. I expect you would have recognized every single one of them as a brother-in-arms. I _expect_ , were you by their side, you would have acted just the same."

"I would have acted as is my _duty_ ," Damien says stiffly. "I would have done my part to determine any threat to our Citadel, and protect against it."

"Listening to the lot of you," the creature hisses, low and dangerous, "one might come to think that you are _unhappy_ that you are no longer given leave to slit throats at your leisure, _takatakataka_."

"The _hypocrisy_ of you beasts," Damien says, indignant. "You- you foul mindless things cannot even be trusted to hold in solidarity to the idea of peace!"

"It is taking far more solidarity then I believed myself capable of to hold to the idea of peace at this particular moment, _knight_."

"Is that a threat?" Damien's hand twitches, his foot turning and setting his body at a defensive angle, and the beast's strangely bright eyes narrow further. "Do you _dare_ level a threat against a knight of the Crown?"

The monster's stance goes stiff, his spine straightening in a way that looks almost regal. "I would not lower myself enough to do so. I will not give you the satisfaction of provoking the _beast_ to violence." He snarls low and Damien's hand twitches again instinctively, but his bow is still safely stowed at his back. "I do not have time for this," the monster repeats. "I have business to attend to. Either point me towards the palace or simply get out of my _way_ , little human."

"The _palace_ -"

"Oh," Angelo interrupts brightly, pointing over Damien's shoulder. "You could not possibly miss it. The very middle of the city- with the highest tower, just there, do you see?"

The monster frowns just slightly, eying Angelo before he follows the line of his finger towards the tower. When Angelo waits with a light smile, not continuing, the monster nods. "I see."

"There. The entrance is at the base of the tower. I wish you well on your business, friend monster."

The lizard looks baffled again, but when Damien makes a breathless, angry noise, his frown returns, and he shoots Damien a vicious look before he turns without another word and stalks off in the direction Angelo pointed out, his tail and cape billowing behind him and his snout in the air.

" _Why_ did you inform that creature how to reach the _palace_ of all places, Sir Angelo? You do not have the first clue what he intends to do-"

"On the contrary, Sir Damien! I expect he shall accomplish whatever business he was in such a great hurry to complete."

Damien opens his mouth, and then he sighs. "But you do not know what that business _is_ , Sir Angelo. You cannot know if he has some- some nefarious intent!"

"Why would he have that?"

"Because _he_ is a-" Damien cuts himself off, lifting a hand to run over his face in frustration. "Sir Angelo, I think you are far too trusting. It is our _duty_ , my friend, to remain vigilant against potential threats to our Citadel and our Queen," Damien says, his voice firm. "We cannot become complacent, even if all others do. Even at this tentative peace, the monsters may still prove to be just such a threat."

Angelo almost looks chastised for a moment, beneath his confusion, but then he brightens again. "But- certainly, Sir Damien, this time of peace is a boon! Even upon your own life, is that not so? Even your own Miss Rilla, with her Exile lifted, her talents recognized- were the strictures of the war still upon us, of course-"

"That is, of course, a blessing," Damien agrees, smiling very slightly as he ducks his head. "But my flower does not do _magic_. She was never involved in any _true_ heresy! Her talents and those of her parents were merely _misunderstood_. Of course, of _course_ it is reasonable and right for our society to recognize at last the disservice done to my brilliant Amaryllis. But the monsters-"

Damien pauses, watching warily as a creature covered in what appears to be some combination of feathers and tree bark trots by on clawed feet, its eyes guarded as it passes the pair of them and then dashes away.

"The monsters?" Angelo prompts, and Damien's fists tighten at his sides.

"The monsters," Damien says quietly, "cannot be trusted."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waiting rooms are nearly always unpleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the yelling, god i am looking forward to the next chapter so much, i thought it was going to be part of THIS one but y'know,,,,, writing is untameable,,,,

The guards at the palace are precisely as infuriating as Arum expects for them to be.

They allow him entry when he announces himself- apparently even for a _monster_ the title of Lord carries enough clout. They do not complain, they do not question, they do not bully or fondle their weapons in promise. Worse.

They _smile_. Very slightly. Mildly. Obligatory smiles that only half-reach their eyes. He cannot read any ill intent from them, but he must assume that is only because he cannot read _any_ intent off of them at all.

They smile, and they request that he relinquish his blades. _To be returned to you when you leave the palace itself_ , they say calmly, pretending not to tense when he flinches, and Arum sucks in a slow and steadying breath. He is here for his Keep. If they kill him-

If they kill him, it is not as if they yet have any knowledge with which to harm his home. He buries a hiss, and unstraps his sheaths. He hands them off to a mildly smiling human and watches intently to see where they are stowed away before another human's smile twitches wider, and they gesture further into the stark stone structure.

They lead him through to a lavish room with wide dark tapestries across the walls, and they gesture for him to take one of the many unoccupied seats in the empty room.

Arum attempts to keep the suspicion off his face as best he can, though he is unsure of his success, and he takes a carefully selected seat. There are no windows by which to position himself, which eliminates an important secondary escape route, so he chooses a place a handful of rows away from the door through which he entered, in leaping distance despite the single guard who remains in the room with him, his face quite bored. His seat is a number of steps away from the walls as well, since the tapestries present the possibility of assassins hidden behind the cloth.

Paranoid, perhaps, but Arum has not lived as long as he has thusfar by _trusting_. Certainly not by trusting _humans_ , at the very least.

His paranoia does not yield any immediate gratification, however. He is left waiting for quite some time, and though he does not lower his guard, he does begin to feel rather as bored as the guard at the door.

Eventually his patience wears thin ( _hours_ , he thinks. It is harder to gauge in such an unnatural structure without the benefit of the sunlight, but he is _certain_ that he has been left here for an _absurd_ length of time), and he opens his mouth to inquire just how much longer he will be expected to _wait_ -

And the door cracks open, and an unfortunately familiar knight ducks his head in. He smiles as he greets the guard, as he asks half a question before his eyes flick to Arum and his voice abruptly stops.

Perhaps the paranoia _was_ justified, then.

The knight scowls and steps inside and the guard by the door- _sighs_ , oddly.

" _You_ ," the knight says. Hisses, rather.

Arum stiffens in his seat but he does not rise, just yet. He is _supposed_ to be here; he refuses to imply that this little creature is in any way _threatening_.

" _You_ ," he drawls in response, and then he frowns deeply. "What, knight, did you _follow_ me here? Have you no more important duties to attend to besides _stalking_ a monster on his own business?"

"I-" the human sputters, indignant, his curls bouncing as he ducks his head. "I have done _no_ such thing! _I_ am merely reporting for my so-called _important duties_ , and it is nothing whatsoever to do with _you_."

"Hrm," Arum says lightly. Coincidence is less likely than malice, but this creature seems frustrated enough to suggest that his surprise is genuine.

"And what of _you_ , beast? What business could you _possibly_ have in such a place? What business could _any_ monster have here?" And then before Arum can even scoff he turns to the tired-eyed guard with a scowl firmly in place on his features. "By what authority was this monster allowed in here? He cannot possibly have business with-" he pauses, narrows his eyes at Arum for half a moment, and then adjusts his phrasing. "His business cannot possibly be such to bring him _here_. Some common monster-"

Arum stands, then, indignant despite himself, and his frill flares at his neck. "So called by some _common knight_ ," he snarls, and he hears the inner door of the chamber open at his back, but he does not turn. He imagines their volume must be drawing further guards, but he cannot possibly allow this nettling fool to address him like _that_ \- "I am Lord Arum, ruler of the Swamp of Titan's Blooms, and my business does, by some hateful misfortune, bring me _here_." He pulls the letter from the folds of his cape, aiming the seal in the knight's direction, stiff and furious. "I am _here_ , at the risk of my own safety, to seek audience with Queen Mira, by request of the Monster Senate. Is that _enough_ for you, knight? Has my business been interrogated _enough_ to assuage your hatred, or need I tear the seal open for _you_ , rather than your queen? Arrogant little-"

"My Queen," the knight says blankly, and Arum rolls his eyes.

"Indeed. Your _queen_. And precisely _what_ my business is with her is no concern of-"

"Your majesty," the absurd creature continues, and then he dips into a bow, the guard at his back folding into the same.

Arum stares at them for another heartbeat, lowering the letter in his hands, and he clenches his teeth and exhales a hiss as he realizes precisely what- _who_ he will see, when he turns.

And then, of course, he turns.

Queen Mira is small, even by human standards, swathed in beautifully layered fabrics, her hands folded together in front of herself as she stares at the knight, and then she turns her attention to Arum.

Her face gives nothing away, besides a very slight air of unassuming curiosity, a placid interest as if he and the knight had not both been nearly shouting at each other moments before, and Arum thinks for half a moment, _this creature is nearly a hatchling_ , before he remembers-

This _creature_ , childlike or not, convinced the entire monster Senate to peace after a millennia of war. It would be foolishness itself to underestimate her.

After a long, tense moment, Arum bows as the humans had done before him, his cape fluttering with the movement, though he does not duck nearly so low and he keeps his eyes upon the queen as he moves.

"My Queen," the knight at his back says quickly, fervently, and Arum watches her eyes flick to the letter in his hand before they rise to Arum's own again - she looks entirely unfazed, not a single hint of the malice or mistrust he has seen in the eyes of nearly every human he has met so far - and then she looks to the knight himself.

"Sir Damien," the Queen says, and Arum can practically _feel_ the knight stiffen. He can certainly hear the way his armor squeaks. "Should I take this intrusion to mean that you are volunteering to sit in and watch the door for this meeting, then? I assumed that my usual guard would serve, but if you should like to offer your services…"

She trails off expectantly, and barely a breath passes before Arum hears the creature - Sir Damien, he supposes - bark out an automatic _yes, my Queen_.

Mira turns her attention to Arum himself more fully, then, her mild expression unchanged.

"Lord Arum, I believe you said." She smiles very slightly, and then she lifts a hand. "I am Queen Mira, of the Second Citadel. I understand that the letter you hold is addressed to me. Come. I should very much like to know what the Senate has to say, today."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arum asks for help, part the second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> STOP! Mira time. >:3c

Damien's mind buzzes, lit with frustration and oncoming catastrophe as he escorts Queen Mira and the monster towards a more private meeting room.

Damien has disappointed his Queen. He is _certain_ of that, certain that she heard his own rash words before she entered the room. She heard the monster's own words, as well, of course.

He would _cling_ to the hope that Mira will take this snarling beast's posturing and hold it against him, but Damien has come to learn in the last few years that Queen Mira has a depth of patience for these creatures (he would assume naivete, were this anyone else in the world) which borders on the supernatural. She is so, so terribly wise, and patient, so clever and understanding- far more so than these beasts deserve.

"You will forgive me for breaking decorum, fetching you myself," Mira says, entirely placid as she leads them to one of her less formal audience chambers, the guards stiffening as they pass. "When I was informed that the Senate had sent an emissary I allowed my curiosity to get the better of me."

The monster stares at her as they walk, something suspicious in his expression, but he nods. "I imagine... I imagine you have been collaborating with monsterkind for long enough now to know that lapses in _decorum_ are of no concern whatsoever."

Damien scowls at the impertinence, but Mira only smiles mildly at that, and then she makes a small gesture towards the guards outside her audience chamber. When they enter, Mira settles on one side of a low table of dark, gleaming wood, and she motions for the monster to mirror her on the opposite side.

Damien, stiff an uncertain, places himself against the wall, off to the side and very slightly closer to his Queen.

She reaches a hand out, and after a pause the monster blinks in realization and produces the letter from the folds of his cape, passing it to the Queen.

She opens it, and while she reads, a tray of tea is brought in and set on the table between them, and then the door closes and the three of them are left entirely alone.

After an uncomfortable pause while the Queen reads, an unreadable expression on her face, the monster reaches and very carefully fills the two cups with tea. He frowns then, and- his eyes flick to Damien very, very briefly before he sets the pot down with a bizarre low rattling noise. The monster lifts one of the cups, but he freezes before he lifts it entirely to his lips, and then he simply... holds it, until Mira finishes reading, refolding the letter and setting it aside.

"Thank you," she says, and then she lifts the second cup of tea and takes a delicate sip.

The monster mirrors her in this as well, and after he swallows he exhales in a hiss. He does not, Damien notices, respond in the _least_ to the Queen's gracious words.

"Well," Mira says, "I must admit that this is rather unexpected, Lord Arum."

"Hm," the monster grumbles. "Yes, well. When I sought the Senate out, I certainly did not anticipate this specific solution."

His voice is low and rumbling and sonorous, and with nearly every word his tongue flicks into a monstrous little hissing noise, and Damien- Damien cannot possibly allow-

"I would ask" Damien mutters stiffly, "that you refrain from _hissing_ at her _Majesty_."

The monster blinks, and then his eyes narrow, his claws scraping unpleasantly on the ceramic of the cup in two of his four hands.

"That," he says slowly, "is what my voice," he hisses, " _sounds like_ , _takatakataka_."

Damien feels his cheeks heat, and then he scowls. "And that? That- that _chattering_ of yours- absolutely disrespectful-"

"What are you _talking_ about?" the monster growls. "If I cannot even _speak_ without you taking issue with me than this entire foolish overture is finished before it _begins_. I _knew_ this was pointless, I _knew_ -"

"Sir Damien," the Queen says, her voice sharp. The monster, who had been shifting as if to rise, goes still, and Damien straightens, his mouth snapping shut. "If you cannot keep hold of your tongue, I will ask you to _leave_. Is that understood?"

"Yes, my Queen," Damien says quickly, automatically, without thought, and then he winces again. "But- my Queen, you cannot possibly be left alone with-"

"Then do not _force_ me to remove you from the proceedings, Sir Damien," she says coldly, and Damien ducks his head.

"Y-yes," Damien says again. "Yes, my Queen. Please forgive me."

" _My_ forgiveness," Queen Mira says, "is not the matter in contention, at the moment."

Damien swallows, and his eyes flick to the monster before he can help himself.

Lord Arum's snout wrinkles, his own eyes catching vibrant violet on Damien's for a breath before he looks stiffly away, a light hiss on his flicking tongue, and Damien looks away as well.

"I... I may have... leapt to an unkind assumption, Lord Arum," Damien manages after another breath, his voice muted and uncertain. "I apologize."

The monster makes a small noise, and when Damien raises his eyes again Arum's expression is incredulous, but he still won't look at Damien as he flicks a clawed hand in the air and winces even more clearly at the apology.

"Yes, yes, acknowledged, accepted, now may we move _on_ ? These- these _negotiations_ are delicate and the longer I am here the more dire the situation will become."

"Indeed," Mira says mildly. "The Senate's letter seemed to imply that expediency would be required."

"Yes," Arum says quietly, with a sigh. "I- I do not suppose that the letter elaborated... precisely..."

Mira waits a moment, and then when it becomes clear that the monster has trailed off intentionally she shakes her head. "Only that whatever this situation is, it holds great importance for the lives of many creatures, and that it must be handled with discretion."

"And..." the monster frowns. "And you are willing to entertain the idea of lending your aid?"

"Well," Mira says with an elegant shrug, "I cannot give you any promises until I am made aware of what, precisely, your dilemma is, Lord Arum."

The monster's frown shifts towards a scowl, and then he sighs deeply and sets his cup of tea back down on the table.

"I am.... I am the current ruler of the Swamp of Titan's Blooms, the steward of its care. All life in my swamp is... is connected, including myself, and the _source_ of that life- my home, my Keep- my home-" he pauses. "My home is dying."

He pauses, looking down at the table, at his hands, at the cup of tea between where he is pressing his palms flat to the wood.

"It is dying," he repeats. "It is _ill_ , and no matter what I do, what I try- no matter how diligently I work... I cannot discover the cause, and I cannot _fix_ it. You will, I hope, believe me when I say that I have _tried_. Tirelessly. Until it became clear that I- that if I continued on as I was, I would not... I would fail in my duties even further out of... pride. Pride and mistrust. My Keep _would_ die, inevitably, if I continued on with only my own skill to aid me. If I reached out, exposed my throat for- for assistance... yes, there is a likelihood that it may cause my Keep harm in another way, but for the fractional chance that it could provide a solution- well. It would improve the odds from _certain_ death to only _near_ -certain death, and I suppose that those in my position are not granted the luxury of choice."

He takes another deep breath, still not looking up.

Damien... Damien knows, of course, that this must be some manner of trickery, some sort of stratagem of deception, but-

The performance is remarkable, at the very least. His heart _pulls_ , for the way this creature appears to stifle his pain, burying sorrow in stiff duty and pessimism.

The monster raises his eyes, at last, fixing Queen Mira with his vivid violet gaze, his expression stony and desperate.

"With the information I have given you, just now, you could destroy my home, myself, and every single creature within my realm and my care. I hope that this will impart upon you precisely how dire this situation, that I would hand you this knife and then beg for your aid."

Mira watches him, her eyes flicking between the monster's own, and then she nods, very slowly.

"What, precisely, do you require?"

Arum wilts, slightly, his posture deflating.

"A healer- a gardener- an herbalist. My Keep is a plant, a structure, a being, an _ecosystem_ , all at the same time. An illness that could ravage a monster of such scope and power... clearly I do not understand it, or we would not be having this conversation. Someone who understands flora, and medicine, and magic. _That_ is what I require, and for some reason the Senate believes you may be able to provide."

Damien feels something in his stomach turn, and then sink. He clamps his jaw carefully shut, and he watches the Queen's face, hoping- _hoping_ that his instincts are incorrect-

"Hm," Mira says, something wry in her expression. "Well. I am aware of the size of your territory, Lord Arum. I have never been nearby in person, but I endeavor to be very aware of every region of the Northern Wilds, and I know that the destruction of an area as large as your swamp would be... devastating." She lifts her tea, takes a slow sip, and then sets her cup back down. "I know someone who should be able to assist you. The most skilled doctor among my citizens, in fact."

Damien stiffens, and he knows it is audible when his breath hisses furiously between his teeth, but he simply cannot help himself. Neither of the two rulers in the room acknowledge him, though, whether or not they hear him.

"You... you do?"

"Yes. She is, unfortunately, not _currently_ within the Citadel itself, however-"

The monster sags again, instantly cowed to hopelessness, and Damien feels a bizarre mingling of vicious spite and unwelcome sympathy. Damien _knows_ that his Queen intends to offer up his _fiance_ of all people- of all her wide and varied citizenry, Damien's precious flower is the singular offering his Queen intends to make to this _beast_ , this _dragon_ -

"Of course," Arum hisses, something like a sigh.

"She is attending, currently, to the portion of her duties that she most begrudges me," the Queen says, her tone entirely even and mild, though her lip curls into something like a smile. "When she is made aware that her skills are more urgently needed here, I can assure you that she will return to the Citadel with all speed. A day for the pigeon to reach her, one to settle her business, and then three more for travel."

"Five days," the monster echoes, brow furrowed.

"And then the trip back to your home, of course."

The monster stares, and then his jaw clenches and his eyes flick to Damien before he looks aside. "Of course."

Damien... narrows his own eyes. It was only a matter of time, he supposes, before this _monster_ betrayed some evidence of falsity. He considers the moment carefully, and then tucks it aside for later consideration.

"I do apologize that I cannot provide you with assistance at this very moment, Lord Arum, but I hope this minor delay will not cause further harm."

"Hrm," the monster grumbles, shifting in his seat. "Well. Help with some delay is still a better situation than I possessed when I woke this morning. Though-"

The Queen tilts her head, very slightly, and then she gestures for him to continue.

"I... I am not entirely comfortable agreeing upon your half of this... _arrangement_ without first making clear what it will be that I _owe_ to you, when all is said and done."

"Ah," Mira says, and she does not look particularly surprised.

"I will already be indebted to the Senate for providing this contact in the _first_ place," he growls, "I would like _some_ idea of what, precisely, I am trading away for the sake of our lives, today."

"How _dare_ you insinuate that her Majesty should do something so _crass_ as to hold your life above you as if she were some- some _bandit_ , some hostage-taking _rogue_ -"

Mira raises a hand, and Damien falls silent again. "It's quite alright, Sir Damien. We must be cognizant of the wide gulf between our cultures. This question would be perfectly expected and, in fact, rather prudent if Lord Arum were making this request of a monster. However," she turns her gaze to Arum again, and the beast wrinkles his snout, discomfort radiating from him in waves. "That shall not be a concern. The favor that I am performing is towards your Senate, Lord Arum, not to yourself personally. It would benefit none of us to allow your swamp to die, I believe, and in helping each other, the Senate and myself may serve to strengthen the fragile peace between us." She lifts her tea for another sip, and when she sets it down again, she is smiling. "Forgive my candor, Lord Arum, but it is my goal, and I believe the goals of a number of your Senate as well, to move from this ceasefire to a true peace. An alliance, perhaps."

The monster _laughs_ , a guttural and incredulous sound, and Damien's fists clench.

"Yes," Mira says, the hint of a laugh in her voice as well. "I am fully aware. But you must understand, of course, that our peoples would not be where they are _today_ , Lord Arum, were I not rather ambitious in my goals."

Mira stands, folding her hands primly in front of herself and gently smiling as the monster across from her warily follows suit, and Damien is yet again- is _always_ awed by his Queen, by the sturdy core of marble she seems to hold at her center, by the gentle grace of her negotiating skill. She is the sort of tree that bends and does not break, that curves around the cruel winds but returns, always, to its straightness, reaching for the highest of lights.

"I hope," the monster says, slow and measured as he rises to his full height again, "that your ambition may be seen fulfilled again. For both of our sakes."

Mira smiles a little wider, and then she nods her head. "If you find my suggested aid agreeable, we may proceed. I will need to send for my physician, and you may perform whatever business you have in the city in the meantime." She turns, then, and Damien stiffens as her attention shifts to him. "You, Sir Damien, will escort Lord Arum until I am able to provide him with the assistance he requests."

"Yes, my Queen," Damien says, and then he nearly bites his own tongue scrambling to speak again. "But- but my _Queen_ I cannot-"

"It is entirely possible that Lord Arum could, perhaps, find himself in danger, now that he is in a position to communicate between myself and the monster Senate. He will require protection. You, Sir Damien, are one of my most capable knights, and it just so happens that you are already acquainted with the monster ambassador."

"Ambassador," Arum says breathlessly, halfway to a laugh, "is not precisely how I would-"

"That is how the Senate referred to you in their letter, Lord Arum," Mira says, tilting her head. "I would not like to contradict a guest in my Citadel, however I must trust to the word of my allies."

The monster snaps his jaw shut, visibly uncomfortable, and then he ducks his head with a sigh. "If the Senate has chosen me to fulfill such a role," he mutters, "so be it. More the fools they," he adds, almost too quietly to catch.

"My Queen," Damien tries again. "Perhaps- perhaps a better choice would be Sir Angelo- he and I are well matched in skill, and he is capable of befriending _anyone_ , even someone like-"

Mira stares at him, her eyes patient and certain, and the monster's lip curls into a slow frown. The pause lingers, and Sir Damien swallows, ducking his head. Eventually, Queen Mira inhales, and then she speaks again.

"I am not choosing Sir Angelo for this task, Sir Damien," she says. "I am choosing _you_. If you should like to continue to question my decision-"

"No," Damien says, quickly and quietly. "No, my Queen. I trust to your wisdom. I _do_. My- my apologies. To the both of you."

Mira sighs, and Damien risks glancing upward. The Queen purses her lips, her frame as regal as it ever is, and then she turns to the monster.

"Lord Arum. There are chambers within the palace meant to house visiting dignitaries. If you have not made arrangements in the city already, one could be made ready for you within the hour."

The monster blinks, and then he stiffens. "I- I could not possibly-"

"I do not imagine that you would return to your home without my physician in your company," Mira says, very mildly, "and it saddens me to say that the rest of my Citadel may not always be trusted to act with kindness towards a visiting monster."

Arum snorts, then has the grace to look mortified by his own laughter. The Queen does not seem to respond to this, and instead gives a sigh.

"Until my physician returns, I believe it would be... wisest, and safest, for you to take quarters here."

For a moment, Arum looks somewhere between furious and frustrated, and then he drops his head, resignation bleeding through him so obviously that Damien could almost swear that his scales shift hue.

"Very well," he murmurs, and then the tilt of his head takes on the impression of a very slight bow. "I shall take this added kindness with gratitude, your Majesty."


End file.
